by Wendy Byrne
"A friend of mine from the Bureau is trying to hook us up, but nothing's guaranteed."
"I need to borrow your phone to text my brothers and let them know what I've been doing. No doubt they've tried to contact me and are worried sick."
"Max and Jake?"
"Been doing a little research?"
"Pays to know who I'm partnering up with." He graced her with a smile.
"Don't get too cocky. I'm always a hair's breadth away from ditching you." When he handed her the phone, she texted, I'm fine. But this is an FBI guy's phone so don't text back. I'll fill you in on what's been going soon. Saby.
Her stomach rumbled. Lunch this afternoon was a long time ago. Fresh clothes and a warm bath were a distant memory.
"I searched the internet for hostels, but we'd have to walk about ten miles, so we might be stuck in town and hope for the best."
"It goes without saying I have no money, so anything more than free is too rich for my blood."
"I've a couple hundred euros so that should cover us for dinner and maybe a night at a small inn if we're lucky." He grabbed her hand. "There's a place down the road. I thought we'd head there for a little food."
"Now you're talking. I'm starving. I could go for a beer and some stew." As tempting as it might be, remembering the consequences last time she picked somebody's pocket shifted her to a scared-straight mentality.
She had no desire to repeat the fiasco from earlier in the day. Besides, she didn't have the energy.
They walked inside the small, dark tavern. Only a few people sat at wooden tables, some choosing to sit along the bar. To her relief, none of them paid any attention. She headed straight for the bathroom to check out her hair while he secured them a spot.
A few moments later, she met him at the bar and peered into the mirror along the back, confirming what she'd already seen in the bathroom. It was her, yet it wasn't. Her fingers twisted in the hair at her nape, while her breath hitched in her throat.
"What do you think?"
"Weird. I've never had short hair before. It's going to take some getting used to." Fleeting memories of her mother's long, dark hair shot through her mind. Most times she kept those thoughts at bay, but her mother's effervescent smile flashed before her even while a kind of controlled fear tunneled through. What had happened the night her parents died? Snippets of memories seemed to float around her brain, but they never coalesced into anything she could make sense of.
"More importantly, it will take people a lot longer to match you up with your picture."
His response interrupted the trajectory of her thoughts. Getting caught up in something that might never produce any answers wasn't on her agenda right now.
When their stew and ale arrived, they both dug in. Too famished to stop for even a second, they were finished before he spoke again. "What's your story? I know you were born in Serbia, but how you got to the US is sort of a mystery."
"And here I thought the FBI knew everything." She avoided his question with a sip of ale. The brew slid down her throat, quenching a thirst she hadn't felt in a long time. Being in Europe did strange things to her; memories—both good and bad—tugged with every step she took. "All I'm interested in right now is how fast we can get back to Marco's place and find out where he sent Caitlyn."
"They're expecting us to run the opposite way, but we're heading straight for him. Is tomorrow soon enough?" When she nodded, he continued, "First we need a good night's sleep and to secure the motorcycle."
"Right about now I could lie down in the middle of the floor and fall fast asleep, I'm afraid."
"You're still coming off those drugs that Marco gave you." He shook his head and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.
"Does he have a chemist in residence or something?"
"Not him personally, but Trinity does and sends Marco concoctions to produce different effects, from an aphrodisiac to excruciatingly painful to euphoric. The whole thing is beyond sick."
If they continued to discuss the inner workings of the organization, she'd never get to sleep tonight. Instead, she chugged the last of her ale and changed gears in their conversation. "Any idea where we can bunk for the night?"
"I checked with the bartender while you were in the bathroom, and they have a room above the bar. Sound okay to you?" He stood and helped her out of the chair.
She nodded as exhaustion pressed down on her shoulders, permeating every muscle of her body. The bartender escorted them through the kitchen and up the back steps to a room at the end of the hall. After Kane gave him money, he unlocked the door and walked away without another word.
The modest room had a small bed, a table with a lamp, and a bathroom outside the door. She'd stayed in worse places in her life. But, being in such close proximity to somebody, she hadn't decided whether trust was an issue.
Still, in some ways, she felt that she knew Kane better than most other men, aside from her brothers. Which was odd, since she'd known him for only a couple of days.
"Small bed, huh?" He glanced at her and grimaced. "I'd let you take the bed and I'd sleep on the floor, but I don't think there's enough room."
She plopped onto the bed and slipped off her shoes. "As long as you keep your hands to yourself, I'll be fine."
"Never let it be said that I don't know how to show a lady a great time." He placed her bag and his on the floor and took off his shoes.
He squirmed into position next to her. The makeshift cover was barely enough for one person, let alone two, but they somehow made do.
Being in close proximity was doing something very strange to her libido. Her body tingled as he slid against her.
"Get a good night's rest, Rambo. We've got a big day ahead of us," he whispered into her neck, before he planted a soft kiss at her nape.
How did he do that? An unexpected shiver skittered along her spine, tingling her nerve endings, waking up areas she was sure had gone into dormancy long ago.
She wanted to elbow him and tell him to back off. Something to avoid that sensation tiptoeing up her spine. But she didn't. Because for once, the touch of another human being felt comforting rather than claustrophobic.
Despite being bone weary beyond what should be humanly possible at this very moment, the last thing on her mind was sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kane stirred from a light sleep when he heard the words Teufel Hexe. He'd heard the words devil witch used to refer to Sabrina more often than he could remember over his final few days at Marco's home. Hearing them again brought him wide awake. They'd been found.
Going downstairs would make them sitting ducks. The dormer window above the bed was their only option. He placed his lips close to her ear. Even if the bartender didn't put two and two together, he couldn't take the chance.
"I think we might have been found."
She propelled out of bed as if shot from a cannon, yanking at a non-existent knife at her side. He held out his arms to calm her even as he wondered about the demons that caused her hyper-vigilance.
"Somebody's downstairs. I heard them say 'devil witch' in German."
She brushed off his attempt at calming her fears. Without a word, she put on her shoes, grabbed her backpack, and pointed toward the window with her thumb.
No doubt she'd fit through easily. As for him, he wasn't so sure.
He gathered his stuff while she pulled out her gun in preparation. He brushed back any thoughts of her demons for now.
"You go first. You might have to pull me through." He opened the window as wide as possible.
She shimmied through as the sound of footsteps inched up the stairs. For a minute he thought she'd cut and run when he lost her in the shadows of the night, but she reappeared with her back against the dormer to give her leverage. She stretched her arms in front of her, grabbed his hands, and yanked. He shifted his shoulders to get through the frame.
"You're heavier than you look," she whispered as she struggled to get his chest through the small
opening.
With one last heave she got him through, only to have him land on top of her in the process. "Sorry. Did I hurt you?" He scrambled up and helped her to a standing position.
"I'll survive." She winced as shouts reverberated through the air. "Any ideas?" They held hands and raced over the steep rooftop.
"We're safe for a few minutes because none of Marco's men will fit through that window. They'll expect us to make a jump for it and will be waiting for us on the ground. How are you at climbing trees?" He stopped and glanced at a low-hanging branch.
"Are you kidding? I'm practically half monkey." To demonstrate her skill, she jumped up and wrapped her hands around a sturdy branch. It didn't take her long to shimmy toward the trunk before reaching across to grab the next branch.
He couldn't help but admire her agility as he followed behind her. Still he had to wonder what kind of experiences she'd had to prepare her for the life she now led.
* * *
After spending most of the night and half the morning in a tree branch next to Kane waiting for Marco's men to leave the area, Sabrina was more than ecstatic to scramble to the ground. As he had predicted, there was a motorcycle waiting for them, hidden within the trees a couple of miles up the road.
She still didn't feel all that secure riding on the back of that dirt bike, especially after the last couple of days. Kane knew how to handle the machine, but there wasn't all that much protection on the back of a bike. Despite the Uzi housed in the backpack strapped to her and the additional firepower in the pouches lining the sides of the bike, she didn't feel safe.
Not to mention the flak jacket Kane wore filled with explosives. He forced her to wear one as well, sans the explosive firepower. It was heavy, weighing her down, but did offer additional protection.
They came prepared for a war. Which was good. That was precisely what she was expecting.
Kane turned off the bike and they dismounted. He pushed it aside and covered it with some fallen branches. Satisfied it was well hidden, he removed the two Uzis from the side pouches, handing her one and keeping one for himself.
Then waited until past midnight to make their move.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Uh huh," she mumbled in return. "Do you think he's kidnapped any more girls in the two days we've been gone?"
"I'm sure he's on probation with Trinity. There's not a doubt in my mind he won't get any more…shipments—for lack of a better word—in the near future, until he clears up the mess we made for him. My best guess is one guy on the outside patrolling. Maybe a half-dozen inside." He drew in a breath. ""Let's take care of business," he whispered, grasping her hand and rushing off through the woods.
Finally, the house came into view. Inexplicably, her heart rat-a-tat-tatted inside her chest, and her fingers began to tremble. She'd never felt so anxious before about a job. And this was a job. Even though it felt personal. The bottom line was that everything from now on brought her one step closer to finding Caitlyn.
They crept along the perimeter, Kane leading the way. He stopped. She listened, trying to figure out what he'd heard that she hadn't.
Snap.
Someone was close by.
Her pulse pounded inside her veins, making her head throb.
Baboom. Baboom. Baboom.
Trepidation spider-walked up her back as an eerie silence enveloped her. Her breath caught in her throat. Picking up on Kane's unmoving stance, she didn't dare flinch.
One minute she was pressed against his back, the next she wasn't. If not for the telltale sound of a breaking neck, she wouldn't have known what happened. "Be right back," Kane whispered.
Seconds later, she heard the rustle of leaves as he dragged the body to the cover of trees. As she waited for him to return, someone slipped in behind her.
"I've been waiting for this," the man growled against her neck as he put her in a chokehold.
Breathe.
Marco's men had always seemed cocky about their abilities. He'd never see it coming. She'd practiced the move thousands of times and successfully pulled it off more times than she'd cared to think about. She turned her head ever so slightly, lowered her center of gravity, grasped his arms, and threw him over her back and onto the ground. Before he had a chance to recover, she stomped on his throat, crushing his windpipe.
Despite the swiftness of the takedown, adrenaline wove through her extremities, giving her the shakes. She hated killing people. It wasn't who she was, regardless of what others might say about her past misdeeds. Still, she couldn't seem to take her gaze away from the man's lifeless body.
"Killing people sucks." Kane touched her elbow. He turned her face so that she looked into his eyes. "But it was either him or you. I'll hide him in the trees. Be back in a second."
She sucked in her lip in order to get herself together before he returned. After everything that had happened over the last forty-eight hours, now was not the time to fall apart. Instead of giving in to the emotion rolling around inside her head, she bit off the first words that came to mind. Projecting the ball of anger that simmered inside her was a good distraction when he came back. "You said one guy."
He shrugged but didn't break eye contact. "Okay, I miscalculated, so shoot me." A hint of a smile played at the edges of his lips.
Somehow, after knowing her a handful of days, he knew what to say to get her off her spiral of coulda, shoulda, wouldas. "Tempting offer, but I need every bullet I have."
He chuckled as they moved silently toward the house, stopping outside the door. She struggled to keep her breath even.
"I don't hear anything, but I'm sure there's a few guys milling about. We'll go in slow and see what we find."
Neither said a word as they ventured inside. At nearly one in the morning, the lights were out, and the entire place was shrouded in darkness. Moving quietly, they slipped through the living room.
An eerie silence surrounded them as the itch crawled up her spine. Something was off. Kane must have sensed it as well, as he stopped. He pushed her into a closet when noises filtered from the back of the house, and followed in behind her.
A cacophony of curses sounded before one of the men shushed the others. A guy mentioned something about Marco needing his beauty sleep, which brought raucous laughter, followed by more shushing.
Kane stood in front of her in the claustrophobic closet, but she still readied her weapon. Any moment now she expected them to realize two of their own were lying dead in the grove of trees. She counted out the different voices to determine how many men they'd be up against. Factoring in one reticent voice, she figured six. With them together, she didn't like their odds. Best to keep hidden until they could pick them off one by one. She let that ominous thought slide to the back of her mind and waited.
Cupboards started banging as if they were looking for food. This continued for several minutes, followed by another series of curses. While she and Kane dared not take in a deep breath, the men debated who was the better poker player.
Then, almost as quickly as it started, it stopped. One of them mentioned going outside for a smoke. At least a couple of the men left, but a few voices still came from the opposite side of the house.
Sabrina let out a shaky breath and squeezed Kane's hand. His lips were pressed against her ear when he whispered, "The odds just went down. Let's move."
He eased open the closet door. She cautiously followed behind. It was not difficult to find the men, as their conversation drifted through the air.
Kane peeked around the corner then put up two fingers. She nodded even while unwelcome fear traversed her spine.
He led with his gun and instructed them in German to move into the other room. She wasn't sure if it was fear or a kind of lethargy due to excess liquor consumption, but the men were submissive rather than resistant when they were tied up, gagged, and shoved into a back room.
"A couple more outside," he whispered as they walked back toward the door. "With a little luck they'll be as pla
stered as these guys."
As if on cue, the men barreled inside, bringing their raucousness along with them. Kane hit the first guy with the butt of his gun, knocking him to the floor. The third guy went after Kane, while the second guy came toward her swinging. His knuckles caught the end of her jaw before he put her in a chokehold. She made a fist and struck between his legs, then came up with her elbow to catch him in the throat. A targeted strike to his vagus nerve and he was toast. They secured the men, putting them in a separate room from the others while they went in search of Marco.
Kane grabbed her arm and pulled her so she faced him. He stared into her eyes for a good ten seconds before she shook her head and brushed him away. The last thing she needed right now was for him to spot the fear lodged in her chest. Somehow she needed to shake the feeling of vulnerability that had enveloped her since she'd woken naked and chained to Marco's wall.
Instead of giving in to the sensation, she charged up the stairs even while the hairs on her arms pricked in anticipation. She tried to shake off the uncharacteristic bout of fear as Kane pointed to the room at the end of the hall and nodded.
Kane snatched her in close. "You okay?" he whispered.
"Always," she whispered back.
But the quiet bothered her. It was as if they were waiting around for the proverbial shoe to fall. Adrenaline poured like a faucet through her bloodstream and hyper-vigilance followed. She'd been in tight spots many times before, but this felt different.
This. Was. It.
Kane turned the knob and eased open the door. Guns drawn, they slipped inside, each taking a side of the room. She glanced at the bed and shook her head.
Empty.
How could that be? Was Marco even home?
Before either one of them could formulate what to do next, somebody barreled inside and went after Kane with the butt of a rifle. He stumbled backwards, knocking her over as he fell to the ground.
